Big Pimpin` lyrics

Artist  : Pimp Master 
Song : Big Pimpin`



 Send "Big Pimpin`" Ringtone to your Cell 

 
Uhh  uh uh uh 

 It's big pimpin baby.. 

 It's big pimpin  spendin G's 

 Feel me.. uh huh uhh  uh huh.. 

 Ge ge geyeah  geyeah 

 Ge ge geyeah  geyeah.. 

  

 You know I   thug em  fuck em  love em  leave em


 Cause I don't fuckin need em 

 Take em out the hood  keep em lookin good 

 But I don't fuckin feed em 

 First time they fuss I'm breezin 

 Talkin bout  "What's the reasons?" 

 I'm a pimp in every sense of the word, bitch 

 Better trust than believe em 

 In the cut where I keep em 

 til I need a nut, til I need to beat the guts


 Then it's, beep beep and I'm pickin em up 

 Let em play with the dick in the truck 

 Many chicks wanna put Jigga fist in cuffs 

 Divorce him and split his bucks 

 Just because you got good head, I'ma break bread


 so you can be livin it up? Shit I.. 

 parts with nothin, y'all be frontin 

 Me give my heart to a woman? 

 Not for nothin, never happen 

 I'll be forever mackin 

 Heart cold as assassins, I got no passion 

 I got no patience 

 And I hate waitin.. 

 Hoe get yo' ass in 

 And let's RI-I-I-I-I-IDE.. check em out now 

 RI-I-I-I-I-IDE, yeah 

 And let's RI-I-I-I-I-IDE.. check em out now 

 RI-I-I-I-I-IDE, yeah 

  

 Chorus One: Pimp Master 

  

 We doin.. big pimpin, we spendin cheese 

 Check em out now 

 Big pimpin, on B.L.A.D.'s 

 We doin.. big pimpin up in N.Y.C. 

 It's just that Jigga Man, Pimp C, and B-U-N B


 Yo yo yo.. big pimpin, spendin cheese 

 We doin - big pimpin, on B.L.A.D.'s 

 We doin.. big pimpin up in N.Y.C. 

 It's just that Jigga Man, Pimp C, and B-U-N B


  

 Pimp Master 

 Nigga it's the - big Southern rap impresario 

 Comin straight up out the black bar-rio 

 Makes a mill' up off a sorry hoe 

 Then sit back and peep my sce-nawr-e-oh 

 Oops, my bad, that's my scenario 

 No I can't fuck a scary hoe 

 Now every time, every place, everywhere we go


 Hoes start pointin - they say, "There he go!"


 Now these motherfuckers know we carry mo' heat
than a little bit 

 We don't pull it out over little shit 

 And if you catch a lick when I spit, then it
won't be a little hit 

 Go read a book you illiterate son of a bitch and
step up yo' vocab 

 Don't be surprised if yo' hoe stab out with me


 and you see us comin down on yo' slab 

 Livin ghetto-fabulous, so mad, you just can't
take it 

 But nigga if you hatin I 

 then you wait while I get yo' bitch butt-naked,
just break it 

 You gotta pay like you weigh wet wit two pairs
of clothes on 

 Now get yo' ass to the back as I'm flyin to the
track 

 Timbaland let me spit my pro's on 

 Pump it up in the pro-zone 

 That's the track that we breakin these hoes on


 Ain't the track that we flow's on 

 But when shit get hot, then the glock start
poppin like ozone 

 We keep hoes crunk like Trigger-man 

 Fo' real it don't get no bigger man 

 Don't trip, let's flip, gettin throwed on the
flip 

 Gettin blowed with the motherfuckin Jigga Man,
fool 

  

 Chorus Two: Pimp Master 

  

 We be.. big pimpin, spendin cheese 

 We be.. big pimpin, on B.L.A.D.'s 

 We be.. big pimpin down in P.A.T. 

 It's just that Jigga Man, Pimp C, and B-U-N B


 Cause we be.. big pimpin, spendin cheese 

 And we be.. big pimpin, on B.L.A.D.'s 

 Cause we be.. big pimpin in P.A.T. 

 It's just that Jigga Man, Pimp C, and B-U-N B..
nigga 

  

 Uhh.. smokin out, throwin up, keepin lean up in
my cup 

 All my car got leather and wood, in my hood we
call it buck 

 Everybody wanna ball, holla at broads at the
mall 

 If he up, watch him fall, nigga I can't fuck
witch'all 

 If I wasn't rappin baby, I would still be ridin
Mercedes 

 Chromin shinin sippin daily, no rest until
whitey pay me 

 Uhhh, now what y'all know bout them Texas boys


 Comin down in candied toys, smokin weed and
talkin noise 

  

 Chorus Two